


Not Another Zaubertrank!

by MissCrazyWriter321



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Miscommunication, Post-Canon, Romance, Some angst, finding out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321
Summary: In which Juliette is technically a doctor, Wu does not get paid enough for this, and no one on this team has basic communication skills.
Relationships: Hank Griffin & Drew Wu, Rosalee Calvert/Monroe, Sean Renard/Juliette Silverton, Theresa Rubel & Juliette Silverton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Not Another Zaubertrank!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TaleasOldasTimeandSpace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleasOldasTimeandSpace/gifts).



> Hey, everyone! First of all, this is a birthday present for the fabulous Taleasoldastime-andspace, who lets me scream about Grimm and actually helped me with brainstorming this fic. I tell you about a lot of ideas that may or may not ever see the light of day, but this one showed up just in time for your birthday. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Second, if you aren't Tale, I hope you enjoy anyway. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have fun reading it. 
> 
> This is set a couple of years post-canon. Juliette has dropped the name Eve, everyone has had a bit of counseling from a Wesen counselor, and everyone's in a much better place.

It starts innocently enough. In fact, Wu would even go so far as to say that he has the best of intentions. 

“I’ll be leaving early today,” the captain warns, after the team briefs him on a case they just closed. “Doctor’s appointment.” 

Wu, Hank, and Nick file out of the office, exhausted from two days of casework and ready to just go home. It’s only once they’re out of hearing range that Wu catches the other two, clearing his throat. “Is it just me, or has the captain had a  _ lot  _ of doctor’s appointments lately?”

It seems like every week (or at least every other week) these days, he’s leaving early or taking a long lunch, always with the same reasoning: He has a doctor’s appointment. Time was, Wu wouldn’t have even cared, but now… Well. Renard has a long way to go before he fully earns back the team’s trust, but he certainly seems to be going in the right direction, and Wu’s surprised to find that he’s actually  _ worried  _ for the man. 

Hank’s brows furrow. “You know, now that you mention it, you’re right. Think he’s sick or something?”

Nick doesn’t even consider it, waving his hand dismissively. “He’d tell us.” Then, less certainly- “Right?”

“Because open communication has always been Renard’s strong suit,” Wu can’t help but drawl (he may have come a long way, but some wounds aren’t going to go away overnight). 

“Fair point.” 

They all stand there for a few seconds, weighing their options, before Wu holds up a hand. “You know, if  _ someone  _ was willing to handle the rest of my paperwork for me, I could probably follow him. See if he’s going to a specialist, or something?” 

The look Hank gives him is (in Wu’s utterly unbiased opinion) completely unfairly suspicious. “Why does this just sound like you’re trying to get out of paperwork?” 

“Anyway,” Nick interrupts with a smirk, before Wu can even try to defend himself, “I’m not sure you can pull off tailing the captain. He’s pretty observant.” 

“Fine, then.” Wu shrugs, feigning indifference. “I guess we’ll just never know what’s going on with him. All because you guys were too scared to take on a little extra paperwork…” 

“... Fifty bucks says you get caught,” Hank says finally, and Wu holds out a hand. 

“You’re on.”

And this is how Wu finds himself making his way through the ridiculous tangle of buildings and roads in the up-and-coming district of Portland. Seriously, whatever doctor the captain’s going to see must be expensive, which is not exactly reassuring. 

Once or twice, he thinks he’s busted, but Renard never even slows down. (If Wu preens a little, that is between him and his mirror.)

Finally, they pull into a busy parking lot, surrounded by small offices. Snagging a spot a few cars away from Renard’s, Wu scans the area. There’s a dentist, a podiatrist, and a pediatrician, along with a small law firm and half a dozen other little businesses. 

The pediatrician actually gives him pause-he doesn’t want anything to happen to Renard now, but the thought of Diana suffering makes him physically ill-but thankfully, Renard strides in the exact opposite direction, not even looking back. 

He walks up to an unmarked building, clearly still in the process of getting set up, and pauses just outside, checking his phone. Old fears well up in an instant; is he up to something illegal (again)? Is he betraying the team (again)? Is he-

Then the door opens, and Wu can only stare.  _ Juliette Silverton  _ steps out, smiling like Wu hasn’t seen in  _ years.  _ Distantly, he remembers that she was planning on starting her vet practice up again; that must be the new place.

…. Maybe Renard has a dog? (Somehow, though, he doesn’t think so.) 

The captain says something, and both he and Juliette laugh. Wu can’t make out the words, or the reply Juliette gives, but the next part, he sees very clearly: Renard shakes his head, cups Juliette’s cheek, and leans in. 

Wu blinks once, then twice, just to make sure he’s not hallucinating. No such luck; Captain Renard is definitely kissing Nick’s ex-girlfriend in a parking lot. 

In front of Wu.

Wu, who is supposed to report back to Nick and Hank. 

... He does not get paid enough for this.

-

Rosalee smiles, cradling her tea between her palms, drawing in a deep breath. The triplets are all finally sleeping  _ (praise the Lord) _ , the shop is closed, and her husband is looking at her with all the adoration she’s finally starting to get used to. 

They don’t always manage to have lunch together; between work, the kids, and Nick (more work than the triplets combined, as much as she loves him), their schedules are fairly chaotic these days. But she cherishes every single chance they get. Now, empty plates and full stomachs are the only remaining traces of the meal they’ve shared. 

An hour is not nearly long enough for this blissful bubble they’ve created here in the back room, but she doesn’t want to risk keeping the shop closed any longer than that; since the Wesen Council’s fall, she and Monroe have found themselves handling more and more of the Wesen politics in Portland. Part of her wishes they could just walk away from that, but another part of her knows that she’s right where she’s meant to be. 

On the other hand… They do have another twenty minutes before they have to open up shop. 

She sets her tea down, rising to her feet, and Monroe grins, following suit. He meets her halfway, pulling her to him, lips barely brushing hers, when- 

_ Ding!  _

Someone’s inside the shop. She groans, dropping her forehead onto Monroe’s shoulder, feeling more than hearing his sigh. 

“We’re closed,” he calls, and she finds his optimism absolutely adorable. 

“It’s me,” Wu replies, voice more than a little strained. 

Monroe sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of Rosalee’s head. “We’re still closed,” he mutters, but doesn’t bother to argue. He knows as well as Rosalee does that there’s no such thing as  _ time off  _ when it comes to these people. (She loves their friends, really, but sometimes, she thinks they should all have a long talk about boundaries.) 

Reluctantly, they release each other, joining Wu in the main room. 

“Everything okay?” 

Wu shakes his head so urgently that Rosalee’s heart drops.  _ Not again.  _ She can’t handle another crisis. A thousand horrible scenarios flash through her mind- _ someone’s kidnapped, or dead, or worse- _ and she steps closer to Monroe, letting his presence steady her. 

“What is it?” She asks, bracing herself. 

“The captain has a date.”

…. Wait.  _ What?  _

“Dude,” Monroe starts, and she can hear the irritation in his voice, the beginnings of a lecture forming on his tongue, but Wu plows on. 

“With  _ Juliette.” _

_ …. Wait. What?  _

Monroe pauses, exchanging baffled glances with her, before turning back to Wu. “Are you sure it was a date? Maybe it was just, you know, two friends hanging out.” 

“I mean, I don’t normally greet  _ my  _ friends by kissing them in parking lots, but hey, stranger things have happened in Portland, right?” The poor man is practically vibrating, bouncing on his feet, hands flailing wildly. He’s almost a picture of those last days before he found out about Wesen, when he knew his world was imploding and he didn’t understand  _ why.  _

“He  _ kissed  _ her?” Monroe seems utterly caught off-guard by this, but Rosalee pauses, considering. 

“Wait, we’ve seen this before.” 

As soon as she says it, recognition flickers in Monroe’s eyes, along with a mix of relief and dread. At least they have answers, and hopefully they’ve caught it early enough that they can prevent any damage. 

“You  _ have?”  _ Wu sounds well and truly  _ done,  _ as if he’d genuinely rather be dealing with an Aswung right now than any of this. 

Monroe nods. “Yeah, dude. Zaubertrank. It totally messes with your mind. Makes you completely obsessed with a person, you know?” 

Just the possibility that there may be some magical explanation for this seems to be enough to soothe Wu. His shoulders sag, frantic energy draining from him, and he tilts his head to the side. “Zaubertrank. Isn’t that what Adalind used on Hank?” 

“That’s the one.” Monroe smirks. “It’s also what had you eating your floor.”

Wu shudders, and Rosalee lightly swats at Monroe’s shoulder, before shifting her focus back to the matter at hand. 

“Back before Juliette knew about the whole… Grimm thing, she and the captain ended up under the effects of one. Adalind, again,” he points out, and Rosalee cannot help but marvel at how far they’ve all come; there isn’t even a hint of an edge in his voice. “And it made them completely crazy about each other. Rosalee and I had to find a cure. Had to use Nick’s blood to do it.” 

“Do you think it came back?” 

Rosalee rubs her forehead, combing through everything she knows about Zaubertranks; she’s more than a little rusty. They (thankfully) haven’t had to deal with one in a long time. “Maybe. We’ll look into it.” 

He nods. “Should I tell Nick?”

“No!” She holds up a hand, half-aware of Monroe echoing her denial. “Not yet,” she adds. “If we can handle this without telling Nick, we should. Otherwise, it might bring up old… Feelings.” She’s not altogether sure how much Juliette and Nick have talked about everything that happened between them, but she doesn’t want something like this to force those conversations to the surface. 

Monroe nods. “Just keep a lid on it until we figure out what to do.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone.” 

Wu considers this. “Okay, but I’m supposed to go back and tell Nick and Hank where the captain went. What should I say?”

“Just…” Monroe shrugs. “Tell them the captain caught you following him.” 

The look Wu gives is ridiculously horrified. “But then I’ll owe Hank fifty bucks!” 

-

“Oh, it’s a beautiful day today,” Hank announces, drawing in a deep breath. “The sun is shining, the birds are singing-”

“And the body’s ice cold,” Wu interrupts flatly. 

Okay, fine, maybe Hank’s having a little too much fun with this. Fifty bucks isn’t even a lot, really; it paid for dinner for him and Nadine, which is always nice, but not enough to draw a week’s worth of teasing out of him. It’s just, something about the mental picture of Wu getting  _ busted  _ by the captain after he’d been so sure he could follow him makes all that stupid paperwork worth it. 

He pauses, reflecting on Wu’s statement. “What’ve we got?” 

“Body in the freezer. Chef found him half an hour ago. No ID, but we’re running prints now. Not exactly the grand opening they were hoping for.” 

“Guess not.”  _ Ruiz’s _ has been the buzz of the town for weeks. Reservations were sold out months ago. “Any witnesses?” 

Wu rolls his eyes. “Oh, sure. Nearly two hundred people, between the staff and the customers. But so far, it doesn’t seem like anyone actually saw the murder.” 

Fantastic. “We’ll talk to ‘em anyway, just to be sure.” 

Too bad Nick isn’t here; Adalind has a case, and Kelly has a fever, so Nick’s staying home to parent. (That’s still so weird to Hank sometimes; Nick’s got a  _ family. _ ) As it is, he and Wu will have to take statements on their own. 

“... Fifty bucks says I finish before you.”

Wu doesn’t choose to dignify that with a response.  _ (Chicken.)  _

An hour and a half later, Hank is exhausted. This must be the most talkative group of witnesses he’s ever had; everyone wants to talk about everything from the seasonings on the food to the waitress who never once cracked a smile. His head is pounding, and he really just wants to head back to the station. 

“Please tell me that was the last room.” He practically begs. If he has to listen to one more person whose watch costs more than Hank makes in a year complain about their steak being a little too dry, he’s going to scream.

Wu shakes he his apologetically. “One more.”

“Great.” 

They share a tired look, push open the doors… And stop short. 

_ No way.  _

Hank’s distantly aware of his mouth falling open as he takes in the scene: Renard and Juliette, sitting at a table in the back corner, leaning close, murmuring to one another. They’re both dressed to the nines (which isn’t exactly surprising for the place, but still…), smiling at each other like-

Like-

“We need to talk,” Wu mutters, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back out of the room. Through it all, Renard and Juliette never even seem to notice them.

“That-that was-”

“Yep.” Wu is…. Being way too calm about this. Hank side-eyes him, suspicion creeping up inside. Juliette is a vet, after all. She has her doctorate.  _ Doctor Juliette Silverton.  _

Wu smirks. “I want my 50 back.” 

“Juliette’s dating the captain.” 

“Kind of,” Wu confirms, sobering. “Monroe and Rosalee think-”

“Whoa, hey, you told them and not me?” 

“I was freaking out and you were with Nick.” Fair point, and  _ oh,  _ he didn’t think about Nick. Nick’s going to find out, and that’s going to be a whole heap of drama that Hank does  _ not  _ need (or want), thank you very much. “Anyway, they think that this has something to do with a Zaubertrank. Said it’s happened before?”

Actually, that would explain a lot. “I remember that. That was weird.” Not to mention his own experiences with a Zaubertrank; he forgives Adalind, truly, and in some crazy way he has come to love her like a sister, but it’s still best for everyone if he doesn’t think too much about that time. 

Wu gestures back to the room. “Weird,” he agrees. “So Monroe and Rosalee are looking for a cure, and in the meantime, we’re all trying to keep Nick from finding out. He shouldn’t have to deal with that, you know?” 

That, Hank has to admit, is fair. “Okay. Okay, yeah, that makes sense.” He draws in a breath, centering himself, and adds, “I’ll go take their statements. You check in with Rosalee; I want to know if they’re making progress.” 

“Sounds good. Oh, and Hank?”

“Yeah?”

“My 50?”

That man’s focus… “I’ll get it to you.” 

“You better.” 

Steeling himself, Hank steps back into the room. This time, Juliette and Renard look up at him, waving him over. (With their free hands, he notices; the others are holding each other, fingers interlaced.  _ Too weird. _ ) 

“Hey, you guys know the drill.” He flashes them a polite smile, determined to act like nothing weird is going on. If this is the Zaubertrank, it’s not their fault, and he knows all too well how terrifying that out-of-control feeling can be. The last thing he wants to do is make it worse. “I need to ask you both a few questions, and then you can go.” 

“Ask away.” Renard’s voice is  _ too gentle,  _ and Hank can barely hide his disbelief. This thing really is messing with the captain’s head, isn’t it? “I went ahead and took statements from everyone else in here, so after this, you’ll be free to go.”

… On second thought, maybe they shouldn’t be in too much of a hurry to find a cure. 

The questioning goes by fairly quickly; neither Juliette nor Renard seem inclined to talk about the quality of the food, or the curtains, or whatever other nonsense comes to mind. It’s by far the least-stressful interview, if the most surreal. 

Through it all, the couple never lets go of each other’s hands, and more than once they exchange these goofy grins (almost  _ adoring,  _ though Hank shudders at the thought), completely out of place on either of their faces. They seem oddly amused at him for not questioning what’s happening between them, but he doesn’t feel like explaining. 

Finally, Hank has all he needs. “Thank you for your time.” Then, because he can’t not say anything, he adds, “Hey, just… It’s gonna be okay. Okay?” He thinks about saying more-about telling them that Monroe and Rosalee are looking into things-but they give him a weird look and he cannot take it anymore. He turns and strides away, head held high. 

(He isn’t running away. He  _ isn’t. _ ) 

When he reaches the door, he glances back, only to see them already lost in their own world. Juliette giggles- _ giggles,  _ like Hank hasn’t heard since the  _ last _ time she was Juliette-and Sean reaches over, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 

…  _ Weird.  _

_ - _

Trubel really hates magic. 

Granted, it can come in handy sometimes, especially when it’s on her side, but all in all, it’s just really freaking creepy. It always seems to involve blood, there’s always some side effects that mess everything up, and usually, someone gets hurt. 

In this case, that someone would be her. 

She stands with a groan, wiping her forehead. “Let’s never do that again, okay?” 

Monroe and Rosalee give her these ridiculously apologetic looks, more like kicked puppies than Blutbad and Fuchsbau, but they don’t have to say anything; she gets why they had to do it. 

This whole Zaubertrank thing sounds like a special sort of horrifying, even for magic. The idea of something powerful enough to make Ev-Juliette think that she was interested in  _ Renard?  _ Definitely something that needs to be stopped, no matter the cost. 

“So that’s it?”

“Almost.” Rosalee winces, then pulls out a strange device with a long needle. “We need your blood.” 

See what she means? 

Finally, the creepy concoction that’s supposed to fix Juliette and Renard is ready. Now all they have to do is wait. (Personally, Trubel thinks she could have gotten them here much faster than whatever excuse Wu has cooked up, but Monroe and Rosalee are pretty firm on the whole “No dead bodies in the Spice Shop” thing.) 

When the bell rings, announcing that they have company, Trubel looks up. Thankfully, it’s them. (Less thankfully, they’re holding hands. Trubel thinks she might just gag.) 

“What’s all this about?” Renard asks, looking around the shop. His lips twitch as he takes in the scene: Hank, Monroe, Rosalee, Trubel, and the glasses on the table. Wu filters in behind them, locking the door. Probably a good idea; she wouldn’t put it past Renard to run. 

Rosalee tries, at least, to stick to the story they all agreed on. “It’s just a little something Monroe and I whipped up. Think of it like… A magical vaccine.” 

Funny; that story sounded a lot more convincing the first time Trubel heard it. Obviously, Renard and Juliette agree; they only raise their brows, fixing Rosalee with twin stares that are more than a little terrifying. 

Monroe, unsurprisingly, caves first. “Look, guys, we know what’s going on.” 

This earns him a couple of careful looks. “... Oh?”

Rosalee nods, surrendering. “We know that you guys are under the effects of the Zaubertrank again. And we-”

Whatever else she’s going to say is lost as Juliette snorts _. _ She turns, burying her face in Renard’s shoulder, and he rests his palm against her back. His reaction is more subdued, just a sharp exhale, but his eyes dance as he watches them.

Trubel’s stomach slowly drops. She has a really,  _ really  _ bad feeling about this. 

“We knew something was going on,” Juliette finally manages, raising her head. “But we didn’t-didn’t realize-” 

On the one hand, it’s really nice to see Juliette so happy and carefree, almost like her old self. On the other… Trubel really doesn’t like where this is going. 

Drawing a deep breath, Juliette steadies herself, though she’s still grinning (and she  _ has  _ been happier lately, Trubel reflects). “There’s no Zaubertrank. Sean and I-” She’s calling him  _ Sean?  _ “-are just… Together.” 

No. No way. No way Juliette Silverton, of all people, would get together with someone like Renard. Sure, maybe he’s been helpful lately, but after the things he’s done…. 

“Together?” Rosalee echoes carefully. “Juliette, are you sure?” 

Wu chimes in, “Maybe you just don’t realize that-”

“Guys.” Juliette’s expression is gentle, but firm. “We know what the Zaubertrank feels like, okay? There’s this… Obsession. Fear. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah, well, this doesn’t make sense,” Trubel blurts, and Juliette turns to her. 

Oh,  _ no.  _ Her eyes are full of  _ pity,  _ of all things. “Maybe not to any of you,” she murmurs, and Renard tightens his hold on her slightly. It’s obviously supposed to be  _ comforting,  _ and by the way Juliette relaxes-just a little-it  _ works.  _ “Look, I know this is kind of… Surprising for everyone.”  _ Talk about an understatement.  _ “We should’ve said something sooner. We just… Wanted to make sure this was what we wanted first.” 

“And is it?” Trubel can hardly recognize the fury in her voice, at least not used against Juliette. 

Juliette smiles. “It is.” 

Distantly, Trubel’s aware of the others  _ relaxing,  _ of all things. Like this is okay. Like maybe it’s not as weird as they thought. 

She snaps. “Meisner was our  friend, ” she growls, because apparently the woman has forgotten. Juliette goes ashen, and Renard pales. “And he  _ killed  _ him.” 

Not waiting for a response, she turns and leaves, slamming the door behind her with just a little too much force. And it’s-maybe she’s overreacting a little, but she can still see Meisner’s face, his fallen form, lying in HW headquarters. In the place that had become something like home to her, after too long on the run. And that’s Renard-all Renard-and she can’t bring herself to just forget that. 

How can Juliette? 

The door opens and closes once more, and she doesn’t have to look up to know that Juliette has followed her. Rather than look up, she stares straight ahead, not altogether sure if she’s fighting tears or anger. She wants to scream and throw things until Juliette realizes that this man is  _ not,  _ under any circumstances, to be trusted. 

“Meisner was our  _ friend, _ ” she repeats, and Juliette sighs. 

“And Kelly was Nick’s mom.” 

….  _ Oh.  _

Trubel cannot help but deflate, the anger leaving her in a rush. Juliette’s done so much since then, has more than re-earned her place in the family, and sometimes, Trubel forgets the things she did. 

“That what this is?” She asks, although deep down, she already knows that it isn’t. “You think you have to settle for someone like Renard, ‘cause of all that stuff you did?” 

“No.” She’s quiet, but sure. 

“Then what is it?” 

“Something... New.” 

There’s something in her tone-something soft and a little awed-that forces Trubel to finally look back, lifting her head and meeting Juliette’s eyes. The other woman looks... Conflicted, and there’s definitely pain in her eyes, but there’s also peace. And something else. Something fond and warm that forces another question from Trubel’s throat without her permission. 

“Do you love him?”

Juliette’s eyes widen, and she pauses, glancing back toward the store. Trubel has an absent moment to wonder if Nick’s somehow listening in before Juliette replies. “I don’t know,” she admits softly. “But I think I’m getting there.” 

And really, what could she possibly say to that? No matter how much she might hate Renard (and okay, maybe there’s some tiny part of her brain that feels like a child of divorce, hoping her “parents” will get back together even as she knows that Nick and Juliette could never make it work now), Juliette is her friend, and dangit, if she has actually found a chance at love again, she can’t take that from her. 

“I’m sorry,” Juliette adds, apparently oblivious to Trubel’s internal dialogue. “I know this isn’t great for you-” 

“Look, if this is what you want… I trust you.” She steps forward, catching the startled Juliette in a quick but fierce hug, before pulling away. “But you gotta let me threaten Renard a little.” 

Juliette hesitates, just briefly, before nodding, and Trubel can’t help it; she grins. 

She throws open the door, striding back in and taking the room in three steps, machete in hand. Renard’s eyes widen as she pushes him back against the wall, pressing her blade against his throat. He tenses, but to her surprise, makes no move to fight back. 

“I don’t like you,” she growls, and he blinks in acknowledgement, but doesn’t reply. Smart man. “And if it were up to me, Juliette would walk away right now and find a guy that actually deserves her.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she tracks Juliette, who’s watching her carefully. If she tries anything, Juliette’s prepared to stop her, but she’s also letting her do this for now. 

Turning her attention back to Renard, she adds, “But if this is what she wants, fine. I trust her. But if you hurt her?” She presses the blade even closer, and he swallows unsteadily. “I know she can take care of herself. But don’t think for a second I won’t cut your head off anyway.” 

He watches her for a long second, before apparently deeming it safe to speak. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answers, surprisingly sincere. “And I don’t want to hurt her.” 

There’s something in his eyes-something unbelievably vulnerable, not at all like Renard-that gives her pause. Lowering her voice, leaning in just slightly, she asks (has to ask), “Do you love her?” 

No one else could possibly hear her, but he still steals a nervous glance around, hesitating. Finally, though, he meets her eyes, and the answer is clearly reflected in his.  _ Oh, man.  _

_ Sean Renard is in love with Juliette Silverton.  _

He doesn’t say it-not in as many words-but the look on his face is as clear as any confession.

Rather than force him to respond aloud (because Juliette really should be the first one to hear it), she releases him, stepping back. He exhales, shoulders sagging, and Juliette slips around her to make her way to his side. 

“I won’t do anything,” Trubel promises, and she hopes they understand what all that covers. “But you’ve gotta tell Nick. I’m not keeping this from him.”

Neither look surprised. “We should’ve told him before,” Juliette agrees. 

“We’re having a family dinner tomorrow,” Sean murmurs. “Why don’t you come along? We can tell them there.” 

Juliette draws in a breath, and Trubel blinks at the first sign of nerves from her. But then she smiles, and nods. “Sounds good.” 

Hank clears his throat. “So, this is a thing that’s actually  _ really  _ happening? And you’re absolutely sure there’s no Zaubertrank? Because you guys were acting  _ weird  _ at the restaurant.” 

Instantly, Juliette’s cheeks flush, and she bites her lip, fighting a smile (and losing). “It was really… Really fun to watch your eyebrow twitch.” 

Silence. Then, the room is lost to laughter, and Trubel finds herself laughing along. Maybe, just maybe, this’ll be okay after all. 

(Of course things could never go according to plan.) 

-

Hank’s the one to call her, and she’s proud of herself for not dropping the phone. His words run together, a senseless stream of  _ “interviewing a suspect”  _ and  _ “rookie cop lost his gun”  _ and, above it all,  _ “Renard was shot.”  _

Shot. In the middle of the Precinct, of all things. Some Skalengeck with a grudge and a bad attitude managed to get his hands on a newbie’s weapon and fired off a few rounds. The knowledge that he’s dead now does little to settle the panic under her skin; what if Sean joins him? 

She doesn’t altogether remember the drive to the Precinct. She’s only half-aware of the way her knuckles go white from gripping the steering wheel, of the desperate prayers she learned as a kid cycling through her brain on a loop, of the world whizzing by. She  _ must  _ be speeding, but no one pulls her over. (Smart of them, really.) 

Once she’s inside, she brushes past every cop without a word. Thankfully, most of them recognize her from her time dating Nick, because she doesn’t have the focus to stop and explain herself to every single one. 

He’s sitting at Nick’s desk when she finally sees him. Just the sight of him sitting upright is enough to free some of the tension in her chest.Nick, Hank, and Wu are all sitting around him, either helping him or simply serving as a shield to keep the curious rookies at bay, she isn’t certain. He’s gripping his shoulder tightly, grimacing in pain, but he’s  _ alive,  _ so alive, and she can finally exhale. 

He looks up, gaze meeting hers, and she doesn’t care how much of a scene from a movie it is. She strides toward him, and he rises to his feet, ignoring the protests of his men. 

When she’s nearly to him, he raises a brow, and she can see the question in his eyes:  _ Are you sure you want to do this?  _ And yes, it was her idea to keep  _ them  _ a secret, partially because of what she told Trubel, partially out of fear of hurting Nick, and partially just because of this tiny voice in her head telling her that when people find out, it becomes real, and when things are real, she can destroy them. (She hasn’t told Sean about the last part, but she doesn’t have to; he knows, and she knows that he does.) 

It’s a fair question, but it’s so tempered by tentative hope that she does not let herself linger on it.  _ We know what we want,  _ she reminds herself, taking another step forward.  _ I can’t live my life for Nick. And this is already real; telling everyone won’t destroy it.  _ And most of all,  _ Sean almost died today. And I need to hold him. _

She reaches up to cup his cheek, and he leans down, meeting her halfway in a kiss that’s quick, mindful of the entire Precinct watching, but firm and reassuring. When they pull away, she doesn’t go far, just winds her arms around his waist and rests her head against his chest. He holds her with his uninjured arm, resting his forehead against the top of her head.

Distantly, she’s aware of the stares around them, and she knows she’ll have to pull away soon, to clear the air with Nick if nothing else, but she really doesn’t want to move. 

Finally, a stifled groan slips from his lips, and she quickly pulls away. “ _ You _ need to sit,” she orders, and he quirks a brow, but obeys. “Why aren’t you at the hospital.” 

“Ambulance is on its way,” he assures her.

“Yeah.” Nick cuts in slowly. “You kind of… Beat it here.” And it isn’t exactly a question, but she definitely hears it, all the same. 

Gathering her courage, she turns to face him. He looks… Not mad, which is a good sign, but truly  _ baffled,  _ brows furrowed, gaze darting between her and Sean almost tangibly. 

Hank and Wu go utterly still, and Sean brushes his foot against hers, offering silent reassurance. 

“Nick…” She starts, not even sure where she’s going with this, but he speaks before she can continue. 

“This isn’t another Zaubertrank thing, is it?” 

She can’t help it; she laughs, and so do Hank and Wu. Beside her, Sean huffs, some mixture of amusement and annoyance that is more adorable than it should be. “No,” she assures him. “It’s not.” 

Nick blinks a few times, taking this in. “So this is who you’re bringing to dinner tonight?” He checks, and Sean nods. 

“Assuming I’m out of the hospital, yes.” 

“That’s…” He shakes his head, then pauses, looking at her. She’s not altogether sure what’s showing on her face, but some of the quiet panic that’s been steadily building since she first imagined him finding out must be on display, because he softens. “Look, I’m not  _ mad  _ or anything. I don’t  _ get _ it, but I-it’s just… Gonna take some getting used to.” To Wu and Hank, he adds, “And you guys knew about this?” 

They give sheepish shrugs, and nod. Wu adds, “Yeah, remember when I followed him a few weeks ago? He went to visit her at work.” 

Nick blinks. “I thought you said he caught you.” 

Poor, sweet Wu looks a little too proud of himself as he replies, “Yeah, I lied. He had  _ no idea  _ that I was there.”

She bites her lip to hide a smile, glancing at Sean. She’ll follow his lead on this. His eyes dance, and he opens his mouth, but Hank beats him to it.

“You totally knew, didn’t you?”

Sean shrugs. “Well, after the second red light you ran, you were kind of hard to miss.” 

Wu sputters indignantly, as Hank and Nick laugh. “No way. The way you two were acting? You didn’t notice anybody but each other.” 

That had been a fun day. She’s drawn back to that quiet conversation…

_ Her phone dings, and she glances down at it, running a hand through her hair. Sean? Is it already time for lunch? She groans, shaking her head. It’s been way too long since she’s set up an office like this; she’d forgotten how much work it takes.  _

_ She’s almost to the door when she actually reads the text: “Wu followed me here. Want me to come around back?” _

_ And she considers it, briefly, but the truth is, she’s long-known this day was coming. This thing they do-quiet dinners alone, dances at restaurants where no one knows them, movies in dark theaters-cannot last forever. Sooner or later, everyone will find out. Might as well be now.  _

_ So she pushes open the door, and steps through.  _

_ Sean smirks. “He thinks he’s being subtle,” he comments, “but I’m pretty sure he’s broken every traffic law in the book.”  _

_ They both laugh, and her gaze drops to his lips, before she hesitates, mind flickering to a few of Sean’s run-ins with the team. “I’m okay with him finding out,” she murmurs, “but if you want, we can pretend like this is just a friendly lunch, or-” _

_ He shakes his head, and she cannot help but smile as they lean in, kissing each other firmly. She’s not much for PDA, not like this, and frankly, neither is he. But he runs a hand through her hair, and she tugs him closer, all too aware of the way Wu’s head is probably exploding right now.  _

_ A car pulls out of the parking lot suddenly, and she pulls away, feeling ridiculously giddy. (And it’s funny; she hadn’t even known giddy was possible, after everything she’s done.) “Was that him?”  _

_ He grins, almost boyishly. “Yep. I hope you’re ready, my dear, because in fifteen minutes, everyone’s going to know.”  _

_ And he phrases it as a joke, but she can hear the hesitation behind his words, the fear that she might not want to be seen with him after the things he’s done. She wants to point out the ridiculousness of that, to remind him of the things s h e has done, but she only drops another kiss to his lips, this one softer, over in a moment. “I’m ready if you are.” _

_ His smile softens, to something bright and warm, something she does not yet dare name, and she cannot help but smile in return.  _

Sean clears his throat, and she blinks back to the present. “Yes, well, next time, just  _ ask, _ ” he suggests, and Wu huffs. 

“So, if you guys have known for weeks, why didn’t you tell me?” Nick asks, and there’s no heat behind his words, only curiosity, but Hank still winces. 

“Well, you see-”

Wu chimes in. “Really, it was Monroe and Rosalee’s idea-”

“Exactly. And we-”

“We just thought-”

“To be safe-”

Sean rolls his eyes, cutting them off. “You weren’t the first one to think it was a Zaubertrank,” he explains with a wave of his hand. “They were trying to  _ cure  _ us.” 

Nick chuckles, before turning to Juliette. And  _ oh,  _ there’s something in his eyes that says they need to talk. Really, they probably do. A lot has happened between them, and she owes him a conversation. (About Kelly, if nothing else.) 

But before either of them can say a word, EMTs pour in, and Juliette turns to give Sean’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll meet you at the hospital,” she promises, and he smiles softly in response. She hopes that expression is from fondness, and not just blood loss. 

Unexpectedly, Hank clears his throat. “Hey, Wu?”

“What?” But something tells Juliette he already knows where this is going. She certainly does.

“I want my 50 back.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! A note on Diana: She definitely knows, but is a little older and a little better at keeping secrets. (This was originally supposed to have a companion piece from Sean and Juliette's perspective that would have made that clear-the flashback would have been part of that-but I ended up not having enough inspiration for that.)


End file.
